Bergy bits, growlers and intense beauty
Alaska: I know it’s on your bucket list. After all, it’s home to all those things that make you excited to be alive: glaciers, whales, mountains, icebergs and, of course, bears. I’ll come to my run-in with a bear shortly. It’s the kind of thing that’ll only ever happen to Kiwis.
First, I want to tell you about my ‘‘moment’’. You’ll have one if you go. It’s what happens when you visit intensely beautiful places.
We’re onboard the Norwegian Jewel, which is fresh from a glitzy bow-to-stern renovation.
I’m up early because it’s the big day of our seven-night voyage. Alaska only has three modes: intense forest, intense mountains, or intense ice. And we’re heading up a long skinny fjord that blends all three.
There are lots of mini icebergs floating by, officially known as ‘‘growlers’’ and ‘‘bergy bits’’. I’m not making this up; clearly the scientists were at the pub when they decided to name these.
I start to see seals resting on the floating ice, I’m going to call these seal bergs. If scientists can have a little fun, I can too. All I can see is bulging bellies pointing to the sun, soaking up the small amount of warmth it brings.
We’re heading up a fjord called Endicott Arm. It’s a little like Alaska’s version of Milford Sound, with a dramatic final act: a glacier at the end of the inlet. To be frank, I’d never heard of it.
Many of the cruise ships in these waters head to nearby Glacier Bay, a cavernous inlet with seven glaciers that all perform a slow-moving ballet right down to the sea. Getting in is a challenge, only two ships are allowed in each day, and Norwegian is one of only a handful of companies that have the permit.
But Endicott Arm promised something off the beaten path and something few people had heard of, both of which interest me.
I decide to leave my room for the upper observation deck, Starbucks in hand. Yes, there’s pretty much everything you can imagine on the ship. Sixteen dining options alongside 15 bars and lounges, including an outlet of Seattle’s finest.
Not long after reaching the observation deck, I spot a pod of humpback whales. More than 10,000 are in Alaskan waters over the summer, feeding for around 20 hours a day, much like most of us on the ship.
In the distance, I notice the fjord beginning to narrow significantly. The waterfalls that line the granite cliffs are getting bigger. So too are the icebergs that float by.
The main act is getting closer.
Two coffees later (yes, I have an addiction), the frozen blue hues of Dawes Glacier begin to emerge around a corner.
The ship is slowly positioned within a few hundred metres of the glacier face, which regularly has huge walls of ice carve off into the sea. The crowds on the top deck start to swell, so I return to our cabin to watch it all unfold from the comfort of our deck chair.
My partner and I sit in silence, staring at the hulking frozen waterfall that extends 24 kilometres into the distance. Despite being on a 2300-person ship, down in our room it’s a very personal moment. We watch little shards of ice break away. It’s as if the glacier is crying into the sea. And in a way, it is. A recent study found some of the glaciers in the region are melting 100 times faster than first thought.
Alaska is home to 100,000 glaciers. To see this kind of raw display of nature, where glaciers come